


Cupid's Chokehold

by SweetnessandLight



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arkham Asylum, Boys In Love, Doctor/Patient, Dr Sebastian Moran, First Meetings, Flirting, He Just Doesn't Know It Yet, Intrusive Thoughts, Jim is Insane, Jim is a bad person, M/M, Past Joker/Harleen Quinzel, Seb is also a bad person, Therapy, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-08-31 05:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8565241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetnessandLight/pseuds/SweetnessandLight
Summary: Arkham Asylum/ Joker/HarleenQuinzel AU.Seasoned psychiatrist Dr Sebastian Moran has been assigned to the infamous criminal mastermind James Moriarty, who is being held deep within Arkham Asylum. As Sebastian struggles to understand what is going on inside Jim's mind, he finds himself being drawn closer and closer to his patient, and discovers a sickness hiding deep within himself.Trigger Warning: Themes of mental health issues/ Mental health ward/ Asylum environment.





	1. Day 1

Arkham Asylum loomed on the edge of the city of Gotham menacingly- a constant reminder of the sickness that resided within the community, a reminder that often came unwanted. It could be seen faintly on the horizon on a clear day- a cold, heartless building- with cracking white paint covering the many towers and the walls topped with spirals of barbed wire. It was so derelict it could almost be mistaken for being uninhabited, like the ghost of a hospital that once was, but there was life deep within the walls, and those who were confined to the asylum rarely found their way back out of it’s icy clutches. 

Dr Sebastian Moran had been less than thrilled at the sight of the Asylum when he reached it- he was a reasonably seasoned psychiatrist, and had worked in a variety of institutions, but none with such an atmosphere. It felt more like a place to dispose of the criminally insane than help them, a place to ‘lock them up and throw away the key’ as it were.

"So this is the first time the patient has had any kind of therapy since he's been here?" Sebastian inquired as he was escorted down the grubby, white corridor. He held the file of his patient to his chest, he had been sent to the asylum for a specific case, one which he had been told ‘other psychoanalysts have been dying to get their hands on.’ Sebastian didn’t much care for other psychoanalysts.

"We've tried- he doesn’t respond well to any kind of counselling or cognitive therapy, in that he doesn’t respond at all. Just sits there, occasionally we'll get a snide comment out of him but that's about it." 

His guide was a stocky man with a bushy moustache, dressed in the greying uniform that was consistent among the staff. Seb also noticed he was armed; that too was consistent. 

"I've had patients unwilling to cooperate with therapy before." Sebastian responded.

"This one's a tough nut to crack, Dr." The guard argued, as they passed through a number or security placements and heavy steel doors.

Sebastian smiled dryly at him.

"We'll see about that." 

The guard raised his eyebrows in an unimpressed manor as they came to the final door, there was a small glass window leading into the next room underneath the label 'Patient #261, James Moriarty. Authorized personnel only, enter with caution'.

“I can take it from here, thank you.” Sebastian said, not looking at the guard, who grimaced before turning and pacing back down the corridor.

Seb cleared his throat before pushing the door open and entering the room.

It was a dim environment, a series of tiny windows lined one wall and the small table and chairs in the far corner was the only furniture in the room. 

The patient was sat easily in the chair opposite Sebastian- as easily as one could with their arms restrained around themselves in a pale grey straightjacket- dark hair sticking out in multiple directions and black eyes regarding the Doctor silently. 

He looked younger than Sebastian had anticipated, closer to the Doctor’s own age than the 5 years his senior he actually was. He was of an average height, average build, a shadow of stubble smattered across his face granted him a few extra years but he still looked eerily young to be a seasoned criminal mastermind.

"Mr James Moriarty." Seb read the name off the top of his case file, "My name is Dr Sebastian Moran and I am going to be your therapist in here for the foreseeable future."

He walked across the room and pulled out the chair opposite Moriarty, who was still watching him, expressionless.

Finally, the other man let out a low whistle, and a coy smile made itself known around his lips. 

"They didn't tell me you'd be so handsome," He leant back in his chair slightly as Sebastian sat down. His voice wasn't at all as Seb had expected either, unusually deep and soft, with a lulling irish accent.

"From what this place has had to offer thus far I wasn’t expecting much but alas- lucky me.”

Sebastian paused, he was accustomed to all manor of techniques used by patients to make him feel uncomfortable- all unsuccessful of course- but flirting in this case came as unexpected. The entire first impression of his patient was throwing him off a bit.

"Well, Mr Moriarty, may I call you Jim?" He continued.

"Of course."

“Okay, Jim, I’m going to be seeing you on a weekly basis starting from today in therapy sessions I believe will benefit your overall wellbeing and may even reduce your time spent in this institution. Is that alright with you?”

“I can feel my sanity returning with every second that passes with you, Dr.” Jim replied, eyes glinting with obvious enjoyment.

“Good.” Seb dismissed the sarcasm in his comment and continued.

“I understand you’ve been here now for 6 weeks, is that correct?”

He knew it was, but asking the patients questions of basic logic helped to identify their levels of awareness and identify any symptoms of psychotic episodes. So far Moriarty seemed well connected to reality but he had learnt you can never really tell.

“Unfortunately.” Came the reply.

“And how are you finding it? Are they treating you how you would like to be treated?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Dr Moran.” Jim leant forward, black eyes baring into Seb’s relentlessly.

Something about the patient referring to him by name made Sebastian uncomfortable, and he became aware of his pulse in his ears as he tried to maintain eye contact with the other man.

“It’s terribly boring. The food is abysmal, near inedible, the staff are painfully dull, no good for playing with at all, and the living quarters are not up the standard I find myself accustomed to.” 

Seb regarded him carefully, heart still beating slightly fast. He had a relaxed confidence, articulated himself with ease, and so far displayed no signs of mental instability. He thought of how some of the staff had described him earlier-

“He’s a real psycho, that one. Hannibal Lector eat your heart out. Got one of the highest death counts of anyone we’ve had in this place, and we’re talking about double digits here.”

Seb tried to push this to the back of his mind- it wasn’t part of his job to dwell on the criminal history of his patients, he was here to treat the cause, not the symptoms.

Jim licked his lips before leaning back in the chair again, eyes never leaving Sebastian.

“What about you, Doctor? How are you finding it?”

Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed and he too shifted back in his chair slightly.

“I’m not the patient here.”

“No you’re not, but sometimes it’s nice to get an outsider’s perspective wouldn’t you agree?”

Redirecting the conversation away from themselves was a classic move from patients, and Seb had learnt to shut down all attempts to disrupt the therapy in the first session so as to assert control from the beginning.

“We’re here to talk about you, Mr Moriarty.” He replied firmly.

Jim raised an eyebrow slightly and the hint of a smile appeared on his face, before smoothing out and taking on a serious expression.

“Of course, Dr. Do go on.”

“So you say you’re not comfortable with the way you’re being treated in here?” Sebastian kept his face expressionless.

Jim grimaced and made an undecided sound.

“Uhhh, I wouldn’t say not comfortable. More like not satisfied. There’s no… stimulation.”

“Boring, as you said earlier?” Seb offered.

“Yes, that’s it- boring. Dull. Tedious. Miinndd-numbinggg.” He dragged out the last word, his accent becoming slightly more pronounced.

“Do you feel that some form of daily activity could improve your time in here? Maybe give you something positive to focus on? In my eyes it could be very beneficial to your wellbeing.”

“Hmm.” Jim smiled, “That would be delightful.”

“I’ll have a conversation with your guards and see if I can arrange something. Are there any activities you would be particularly interested in?”

“I have couple of ideas.”

He dropped his eyes over Sebastian’s body suggestively and bit his lip.

Seb remained silent for a moment as he judged how to react to this. Any other attempts at asserting dominance by patients were relatively easy to shoot down, but this was bringing him up short. 

The other man was still looking at him, black eyes glinting with amusement as they seemed to look into Sebastian’s thoughts.

Sebastian’s thoughts were, indeed, proving an interesting sight. He tried desperately to concentrate on formulating a reaction, but his mind was being clouded by the suggestion of his patient- he imagined getting closer to the other man, their faces inches apart, hands tangled in each other’s hair…

He bit down on his lip hard and pushed away the intrusive thoughts.

“I’ll speak to your guards later. In the meantime I’d like to make a start on your therapy.” His voice was low and husky.

The amused look vanished from Jim’s eyes and his face fell into an unreadable mask, he rolled his neck until it clicked audibly and sat in silence, waiting for Sebastian to continue.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions and I want you to answer as honestly as you can.” Seb stated, confidence returning as the thoughts fell away even further.

“Would you consider yourself to be a happy person?”

Jim’s face was still expressionless, but he raised one eyebrow.

“Imperceptibly.” 

“Would you consider yourself a good person? Morally?”

“Chaotic Neutral.” He replied.

“Hmm.” Sebastian considered this answer before moving on to the next question.

“What about socially, do you find it easy or difficult to develop or maintain relationships with others?”

“’Others’ don’t interest me.” 

“And why is that?” Sebastian inquired.

“You’re a reasonably intelligent man, Dr Moran.” 

Jim’s voice was growing monotonous, and Seb suspected he had a limited amount of time before he lost interest and stopped cooperating. 

“Surely you find yourself exhausted regularly with the stupidity of those less perceptive than yourself. Now imagine that 100 fold- ordinary people often offer little distraction to a mind vastly more advanced to their own.”

“You believe you have a more advanced mind that others around you?”

Jim rolled his eyes slowly, returning them to Seb condescendingly. 

“Not so much as a belief as a fact, Sebastian.”

Seb bristled at Jim’s use of his first name, and decided the session was over.

“That will be it for today, Jim.” He stated firmly.

Jim’s eyes lit up momentarily again.

“When can I expect to see you again?” 

“Same time next week. I’ll speak to your guards about your living conditions in the meantime.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Jim smiled widely now, and it didn’t fall from his face until Sebastian had left the room and his footsteps could be heard disappearing down the corridor.

What replaced the smile was a dark expression, and as James Moriarty sat in the room alone once more, the criminal mastermind began drawing up an intricate web of plans regarding his escape from Arkham.


	2. Day 2

“So you can’t offer any kind of daily activities? No TV or painting or anything?” Sebastian frowned as his request was denied for the second time by Jim’s guards.

“We don’t allow the patients in solitary to watch TV, can make them… uncooperative. Can’t offer anything with paint, glue etc because of the fumes.” 

It was the same guard who had showed Seb around on the first day, and he hadn’t warmed to the doctor very much.

“What about books?” Seb demanded.

The guard shrugged.

“I guess we could get books, they would have to go through a filter though, no sex, violence or ‘how to build a bomb’.”

“Okay well at least that’s something.” Sebastian ran a hand over his head.

“What sort of books do you want?” 

This brought Seb up short. He didn’t have much of an idea at all of what his patient might like to read.

“Hmm.”

He thought back to their first session- anything involving crime was a no for obvious reasons, but Jim had displayed the notion that he considered himself an  
intelligent man, so maybe something academic?

“Non fiction.” He decided, “Maybe something involving maths or the sciences?”

“Got it. I’ll leave you to your session, Dr.” The guard left Sebastian at the door of Jim’s cell as he had before.

Sebastian took a moment to prepare himself before entering the room. Last week had somehow managed to be the most challenging session he had ever undertaken- there was something about James Moriarty that made him feel anxious; out of control. The last time he had allowed a conversation to be so heavily monopolized by the other participant was when speaking to his father, and he hadn’t done that in years.

He rolled his shoulders back and pushed open the door, entering the dimly lit room once again.

Just as last time, Jim was sat in the chair across from the door, in what looked like the exact same straightjacket, hair still a dark, sweaty mess.

Seb had almost forgotten how striking he looked- he had a confusing face, at a first glance looking too young to match his reputation, but at a second looking like someone who had known this world for a hundred years.

His eyes flicked up to the door as Sebastian entered and a smirk crept onto his face despite himself.

“Good morning, Dr!” He sang unsettlingly.

“Good morning, Jim.” Sebastian responded, feeling oddly pleased with that reception.

“How are you feeling today?” He asked.

Jim was still smirking.

“All the better for seeing my favooourite psychiatrist. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Dr, you really are.”

Sebastian sat down and took a breath, Jim seemed to be in his element today- he had yet to judge if this would make the session more or less difficult.

“Ready to make some progress?”

“Ready.”

“Okay,” Sebastian started, “Firstly I’ve spoken to your guards and there’s not much I can offer in terms of entertainment other than books. How do you feel about that?”

Jim licked his bottom lip.

“’Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.’”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

“Books would be a welcome opportunity.” Jim clarified.

“Good. I’ll see if I can get some to you by the end of this week. So I wanted to continue on from last week. You were saying you don’t feel the need to form relationships with people?”

“I have business associates. Clients.” 

Sebastian frowned slightly, “What about personal relationships? Are you in touch with any of your family?”

Jim didn’t answer for a second, face expressionless, before letting out a long and exaggerated sigh.

“Are we really going to talk about my family? ‘How was you relationship with your father? Were you hugged enough as a child?’” He transitioned into an English accent effortlessly, lowering his voice to mock Sebastian’s, before adopting his own again.

“I really don’t think we need to go there.”

Sebastian tried not to look exasperated and moved on to the next question, making a mental note that family was a touchy subject.

“What about friends?” He paused, “Romantic relationships?”

Jim’s face was still unreadable, he was leaning back in his chair, eyes fixed on Sebastian’s pen which lay on the middle of the table. 

Sebastian watched him closely, there was something unusual in his expression; he looked almost vulnerable. Seb had a strange urge to reach out and touch him, to offer comfort of some kind. He suppressed this of course, his job didn’t entail that kind of behavior, and this was a man who had orchestrated the deaths of multiple people, committed fraud, acts of terror, robberies, and had ruined a man’s career which lead him to commit suicide. Sebastian couldn’t forgive all of that just because he looked…sad.

Finally Jim’s eyes flicked up to meet Seb’s.

“Why, are you offering?” That smirk had reappeared on his face, and he waited for Sebastian’s response with an amused expression.

“I hardly think that would be appropriate.” Seb retorted, not allowing himself to imagine what that would entail.

“Ahh, so if it weren’t for your job you would consider it?” Jim’s eyes were lit up with a slightly manic excitement.

“No.” Sebastian lied.

“Onto the next topic-” He tried to change the subject before Jim interrupted him.

“What about you, Dr? How are you at developing ‘romantic relationships’?”

Sebastian shot him a look before reeling it in, reminding himself to be professional. 

“That isn’t relevant to your therapy.”

Jim leant forward, the hazy light from the window illuminating flecks of brown in his eyes.

“Awwwh, come on, don’t be boring, let’s talk about you. Dr Sebastian Moran; who is the man behind the clipboard?” He grinned playfully.

“I’m not very interesting.” Sebastian answered despite himself.

“Now we both know that’s not quite true.” Jim paused before adding, “Colonel.”

Seb froze. 

No one knew about his history in the army; he had made sure to erase all evidence of those years of his life when he trained to be a psychiatrist. And now this criminal locked away in an asylum in the US who he had met for the first time one week ago somehow knew about it?

He clenched his jaw.

“What?”

Jim smirked, clearly his little reveal was having the effect he had planned.

“Oops. Was that supposed to be a secret?” 

Sebastian stared at him, trying to figure out how in the world he could know about this. Could he have guessed? They say you can identify a military man from his posture, maybe he just hit the jackpot with the right title.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sebastian tried to relax his jaw.

“Ohh I think you do, Colonel Moran. 10 years wasn’t it? Give or take? Until you were kicked out for being a naughty boy.” 

That wasn’t a guess.

Seb tried to think of something to say frantically, this was all power play- and at the moment Jim was winning. He needed to make sure Jim wouldn’t share this with anyone, this could ruin his career, but he didn’t want to leave himself open to blackmail. But then again, who would believe a the insane criminal over the respectable doctor?

“No one will believe you.” He told him.

Jim’s smile grew wider.

“Ooooh, this is more like the man I’ve heard about, not quite the honorable doctor our American friends have come to know.”

“Heard about?” Seb demanded- was his past common knowledge among the criminal elite?

“You’re a wanted man, Sebastian Moran.” Jim’s eyes grew slightly wider with the thrill of his new game.

“You didn’t really think a skill set like yours would go unnoticed, did you? The best sniper this country has ever seen just drops off the radar and nobody asks questions? You underestimate the criminal classes, Dr, for the most part you would be correct but my people, my people have been keeping tabs on you for years.”

“This is insane.” Sebastian’s heart was hammering in his chest, this entire conversation felt like it wasn’t really happening.

“Well this would be the place for it.” Jim replied.

Seb ran a hand over his head; his hair, still cropped reasonably short, felt slick with sweat.

“Why? Why do you know all of this? Why are you telling me now?”

Jim shrugged his shoulders, eyes still lit up with enjoyment.

“I’m bored.”

Sebastian hated himself for letting his guard down, not 10 minutes ago he had been feeling sorry for this man, how could he let himself forget who he was dealing with. Jim Moriarty was in a high security mental asylum for a reason- because he was dangerous. Unpredictable.

“This- this is all irrelevant. What happened all that time ago is done, I’m not that person any more. I’m a doctor.”

“Oh stop it.” Jim snapped, losing his relaxed demeanor momentarily.

“People don’t change, you know as well as I do. You killed people, Moran, there’s no escaping from it. You’re just as bad as I am, you just won’t admit it to yourself.”

Sebastian glared at him, clenching a fist under the table.

“We’re not the same.”

Jim leant forward, strands of black hair fell forward across his forehead and his mouth split into a wide smile, baring his teeth and widening his eyes manically.

“Yes we are. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner the fun begins.”


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >>Some description of violence.

The door stood tall and ominous, wood stained dark by years of being exposed to the elements. It was splintering in some places, particularly surrounding the huge, rusty knocker in the center and the small but just as rusty crucifix that had been nailed crudely into the wood just above it. 

The door towered over Sebastian- he knew he had to open it, but was anxious as to what lay on the other side. Since he was a child, the door had represented that which he would rather not think about, that crippling fear that had haunted his first 17 years, instilled in him daily by his father.

He pushed the door open, it felt white hot in his hand, and he winced as he stepped forward into a blinding light. When his eyes adjusted, he saw he was not inside his father’s church as he had expected, but in his old camp in Afghanistan. The light was the sun glaring down on him, and he stumbled through the dry, dusty air towards a group of men leaning against the side of a tent.

The men saluted when they saw him, with an echo of, “Colonel Moran.”

“Why am I here?” He asked them, his voice coming out a husky croak.

“Your father sent you.” They replied simultaneously, “To repent for your sins.”

“My-my father?” He stuttered, before a voice caused him to spin around.

“Sebastian.”

There stood Augustus Moran, looking just as he had when Sebastian last saw him, tall and thin, specks of silver in his ash blond hair and a disapproving look in his cold, grey eyes.

“Why did you send me here?” Sebastian demanded, the sunlight beginning to give him a headache.

“You need to repent, son of mine. Repent for your nameless sins and perversions.” His father replied.

“I’m not repenting for shit. I told you last time, your scaremongering bullshit doesn’t work on me anymore, I stopped believing in that when I was 17.”

Sebastian was growing uncontrollably angry, and his fists were clenched at his sides as his head began to burn, white heat filling his eyes and mouth.

“REPENT!” His father shouted, grey eyes lighting up with an anger that echoed Sebastian’s own.

Suddenly, Sebastian had tackled him, and threw punches over and over again as he towered over his father’s body on the floor. He kept pummeling in a blind rage until there was nothing left but a bloody, caved in mess for a face, blood covering his knuckles and splattered up his arms. He paused, and looked down at the body, a voice echoing in his head,

“Colonel Sebastian Moran, you are hereby sentenced to Dishonorary Discharge from Her Majesty’s British Army on he count of murder.”

He stood up and stumbled away from the body, the light was now so bright he couldn’t see anything, no desert horizon, no sun, no camp. He spun around, looking for something, anything in the endless white.

Finally, a figure appeared in the distance, growing larger and clearer as it approached Seb. At first he feared it would be his father again, but a hazy glow was surrounding it, almost like a halo. It approached silently, surrounded by white light, and Sebastian blinked as it became clearer.

Jim Moriarty stood in front of him, a knowing smirk playing around his lips.

“Hello, Sebastian.”

Seb jerked awake violently, covered in a cold layer of sweat and his head throbbing.

He sat up in bed slowly, and ran both hands over his head- his hair damp with sweat. There were police sirens wailing from far off, and the sound of some commotion from the street outside coming though the small crack of the open window. Seb leant over to the bedside table and picked up the packet of cigarettes and lighter which lay there, lighting one up and inhaling deeply. It was a bad habit, but lesser of others he had harbored. 

He sat silently for a while, waiting for the pain in his head to dull and trying not to think about the themes of his nightmare. Instead, he thought about London. He’d been living in Gotham for the past 3 months, but the city didn’t feel like home, and he was sure it never would. He missed the smell of London, the feel of the air, cold and cutting across his face, the constant drizzle of rain, the quiet resilience of its inhabitants. Everyone was so…loud here. 

He found himself wondering if Jim missed it too- he too had lived most of his life in London, according to his case file, but that was about as specific as the information was. 

He thought about asking him in his next therapy session tomorrow, which Seb had only just decided that night he would go ahead with. He had thought about quitting the case, moving back to London and making Jim someone else’s problem, but he couldn’t be sure Jim wouldn’t tell the staff everything he knew. Of course, they probably wouldn’t believe a word he said, but Sebastian couldn’t take that risk. Not to mention he was effectively incriminating himself by running away.

But there was another reason he was reluctant to abandon his patient. Despite the flirting which, Sebastian hated to admit, had an effect on him he wished it didn’t, and the blatant power play with use of Seb’s darkest secrets, he found himself fascinated with Jim Moriarty, from both a psychological and personal perspective.  
He was unlike any patient Sebastian had worked with before- Seb had a couple of ideas for diagnosis, Borderline Personality Disorder, Antisocial Behaviour Disorder, definitely high on the Psychopathic spectrum etc, but there still seemed to be something…else. Something almost otherworldly. 

He pushed this thought from his mind- superstitious thinking was something he had put behind him long ago.

***

Jim had actually been given a change of clothes when Sebastian arrived- the grubby old straightjacket had been replaced with a reasonably clean one, and his navy blue tracksuit bottoms had been replaced with black ones, complete with the ‘Arkham’ stamp on the left ankle. 

He looked cleaner too, his hair was no longer the tangled black mess it had been, but was now combed back neatly out of his face, and he was clean shaven.

“Well.” Sebastian said as he walked in, “Gave you access to the shower room did they?”

“I’m quite the new man, Dr.” Jim replied, itching his nose on his shoulder as both hands were temporarily indisposed. 

“I can see.”

Sebastian didn’t allow himself to consider that Jim looked more handsome this way- the way the arch of his eyebrows and angle of his jawline became clearer with his hair brushed back.

“How have you been feeling?” He asked.

“I would be inclined to ask you the same question.” Jim looked up at Seb, who had not yet sat down, through his eyelashes.

“You had quite the traumatic experience in our last session, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t traumatic.” Sebastian answered, trying hard to keep his tone monotonous, “Just… unexpected.”

“Hmm.” Jim answered, watching Seb as he sat down and placed his files on the table.

“But none of that matters anyway, these sessions are about you, not me. As long as you are happy with me as your doctor we shall continue as normal.”

“More than happy.” Jim smiled.

“So we’re going to try something a little bit new today. Seeing as discussing your feelings head on doesn’t seem to be working all that well, I’m going to try and tap in to the unconscious part of your brain. We’re going to do some word association. I’m going to say a series of random words, and I want you to respond with whatever pops into your head, alright?”

Jim didn’t answer, but continued to smile as if considering a joke Sebastian wasn’t in on.

“Okay,” Sebastian started regardless, “Dog.”

“Fleas.”

Sebastian smirked, but continued.

“Tea.”

“Biscuits.”

“Friends.”

Jim clicked his neck.

“Boring.”

“Work.”

“Boring.”

“Death.”

“Boooring.” 

Sebastian raised his eyebrows- Jim’s unwillingness to cooperate with the therapy was proving to be a little frustrating.

“What don’t you find boring, Jim?”

“You.” He licked his bottom lip and blinked, waiting for Seb’s reaction.

“Why’s that?” Seb knew he shouldn’t ask, but his curiosity got the better of him, and his heart was hammering threateningly in his chest.

“Hmmm.” Jim sat back in the chair, eyes never leaving Sebastian’s.

“Ex- Military Psychiatrist, body count to rival my own, best sniper in the country, and not to mention your jawline is killing me right now.”

Seb looked at him, and wondered what would actually happen if they kissed right there. What if he got Jim out of that straightjacket and slammed him against a wall, or onto the desk. What would happen if they did something- out of conduct.

Best case scenario, he would lose his job. Worst case scenario, he would go to prison, or end up being taken out by some nameless figure of Jim’s criminal empire.  
It wasn’t even worth considering. It was completely insane. But as Jim had said before,

‘This would be the place for it.’


	4. Day 26

Weeks passed and Sebastian almost managed to forget about the second therapy session with Jim- he hadn’t spared a thought for his father or his time in the Army either, which was a rarity in itself.

He increased Jim’s sessions to three times a week, telling the guards, almost honestly, that he thought he was making progress with the therapy. In reality, he didn’t stick to his notes very rigidly in the sessions. He and Jim would talk, about Sebastian mostly, Seb found himself telling Jim about his childhood, about his education and training, how he was finding the city. Jim would flirt, and Seb would try not to flirt back.

He was finding it difficult to remember that Jim was his patient- he could easily pass for a sane person when he wanted to, only occasionally offered sobering reminders of his mental instability. Although he hated to admit it, Sebastian had begun to look forward to their sessions. They were a rare moment of interest in his otherwise repetitive and lonely lifestyle.

He had started working out more again- he had never fully abandoned the military training regime, but now he was going to the grimy gym down the road every day after work. 

In a weird way he felt more alive than he had done in years. He had never had a particular lust for life, and tended to just survive as a pose to live, but Jim had granted him a strange but undeniable motivation to get up in the morning.

“Morning, trouble.” He greeted Jim as he entered their therapy room that morning.

“I want out of this straightjacket.” Jim’s reply was irritable, and he sat back in his chair with a slight pout.

“Why? I think it suits you.” Sebastian smirked.

Jim shot him a dark look, which swiftly transitioned into a sweet smile that didn’t look genuine in the slightest.

“Can you have a word with the guards so I don’t have to wear it anymore, pretty please? Come oooonn, if you’re worried about your safety I promise I wont lean across the table and strangle you. Unless you want me to.” 

He clicked his tongue and winked theatrically. 

Sebastian sighed.

“Fine, give me a minute. But I’m not promising anything.”

He left Jim alone again and strode down the corridor towards the small office at the other end-the guard in there looked up from his monitor as Sebastian entered, raising an eyebrow.

“My patient needs a change of clothes. The straightjacket is no longer necessary.” Sebastian stated.

The guard scoffed.

“You’ve got Moriarty, right? Yeah he’s not getting out of that straightjacket. Maximum security, strict instructions.”

“I’m telling you he doesn’t need it, he’s not going to attack me.”

“Yeah that’s what people say about pitbulls until they maul somebody’s kid. Sorry, Dr. No chance.”

Seb thought for a moment, before reaching into his trouser pocket and pulling out his wallet, there was a fifty dollar bill tucked into the top. He took it out and twirled it between his fingers- he still hadn’t quite adjusted to American money, it felt different, tackier. 

He took a step forward and set the note down on the table.

“What’s this?” The guard asked, looking at the note.

“He loses the straightjacket.”

The guard pondered this for a moment, before picking up the note and stuffing it into his pocket. Sebastian stopped himself from smirking- this wasn’t an approach he would usually go for, but he’d gotten to know the attitudes of the staff in this place, and fifty dollars seemed a worthy price for overriding protocol.

“Okay.” The guard said, standing up, “It’s your funeral.”

Sebastian followed him back down the corridor and into Jim’s room.

Jim’s eyes flicked up as the guard entered, before moving to Sebastian, raising his eyebrows.

“Let’s get this over with, Mr Moriarty.” The guard addressed Jim, who just looked at him with an amused expression.

The guard took a key out of his pocket and walked around behind Jim’s chair.

“Lean forward.”

Jim obliged without a word.

After unlocking the fastenings, the guard withdrew, letting Jim shrug off the grubby, white material.

He was wearing an equally grubby white t shirt underneath, and Sebastian couldn’t help but notice the definition of muscle in his arms as he stretched them out in front of him.

“Aaahhhh.” He made an exaggerated sound of relief.

“You can go now.” Jim told the guard as he ran a hand over his hair. 

The guard gave Sebastian a disapproving look before leaving the room without another word.

“You’re an angel, Dr. How much did that one cost you?” Jim was now cupping the back of his head, arms sticking out to the sides.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sebastian lied, sitting down.

“Yeah, right.”

“How’ve you been the past few days?” Sebastian asked.

“Bored.” Jim sat forward, putting his elbows on the table and leaning his head in his hands.

“You know I simply liiive for these sessions with you, Dr.”

“Hmm. What did you live for before me?” Seb inquired.

“Distractions.” Jim answered simply.

“Such as?”

“Sherlock Holmes was the best one. Bet you’ve heard of that one- suicide. In the end it was all too easy though, almost disappointing. The build up was fun though.” Jim’s eyes glittered as he spoke of the consulting detective, and Sebastian felt a small twinge of jealousy.

“What else?” He pushed.

“My work, although sometimes that became tedious. Music. Johann Sebastian Bach is the only human who ever has or every will truly understand me. Although…” He smirked, “You two have a name in common, maybe you’ll prove worthy also.”

Sebastian smiled, before glancing down at his notes and taking on a more serious expression.

“What about killing people? Is that a distraction?”

Jim rolled his eyes, “Collateral damage. I don’t get off on death, Sebastian, I’m not some common serial killer.”

“So you’re just indifferent?” 

“You could say that.” Jim’s eyes were dark, the smirk still present on his face.

“You killed a 92 year old blind lady.” Sebastian stated, “Blew her up.”

Jim looked for a second like he was suppressing a laugh, before answering,

“Ohhh give me a break, Moran. Her days were numbered, I just sped along the process a little. People get so touchy about these things.” 

Sebastian looked at him for a while, trying to see the monster that he was. Trying to see a psychopath in a mental asylum. But all that he saw was Jim. The old eyes in a young face. Cold, glittering eyes that hid a lifetime of pain and loneliness.

“You really are something else, you know that?” Seb told him.

Jim just smiled, eyes now glowing with satisfaction.

Sebastian found his mind wandering, as it often did during lapses of conversation in their sessions. His eyes flickered over what was visible of Jim’s body across the table, thoughts lingering on the way his greying t shirt clung to his chest and shoulders. Jim was considerably smaller than himself in both terms of muscle mass and height- most people were- but he was still a little more toned than Seb had expected.

Jim was wearing a painfully smug expression as he watched Sebastian watching him, and he allowed the silence to go on for a few more moments before breaking it.

“You’ve been working out again.” He observed, apparently picking up from Sebastian’s train of thoughts.

“I always work out.” Seb replied.

“Hmmm.” Jim made a sound of disagreement, “Not like this. One might think you were trying to impress someone…”

He trailed off, smile widening.

“Say I was,” Sebastian answered slowly, “would that work in my favour?”

Jim chuckled, dropping his eyes for a moment.

“I wish I could say I wasn’t so shallow.” He looked back up at Sebastian, eyes smoldering with a hunger that took Seb a little by surprise.

Sebastian stared at the man across the table. His body was having an involuntary reaction to the way Jim was looking at him, and he was finding it increasingly more difficult to control where his thoughts were taking him.

“I- you need to stop that.” He told him.

“Stop what?” Jim asked, eyes widening with false innocence.

“Flirting with me. It’s not appropriate.” Seb managed to get out.

“Why?” 

“Because one of these days I’m going to bend you over this table and then you’ll be sorry.”

The words slipped out before Sebastian realised what he was saying, and he had a moment of panic before Jim’s face split into a huge smile, eyes black as sin.

After that he just couldn’t bring himself to regret a word of it.


	5. Day 26- Part 2

“Is that so?” Jim replied, licking his bottom lip deliberately slowly as he watched Sebastian’s internal struggle.

“I-no. Of course not. That wouldn’t be-“

Jim cut him off.

“Appropriate?” He impersonated Seb’s accent easily, “’Jim isn’t allowed to have any fun because he’s the patient and I’m the doctor, it’s not appropriate, it’s not professional, blah blah blah.”

Sebastian glowered at him.

“You know I’m right.”

“Who cares about being right?” Jim demanded impatiently, “You didn’t care about being right when you pummeled that guy to death, you were acting on animal instinct. What makes this so different?”

“That was still wrong.” Seb clenched a fist under the table.

“Oh give me a break.” Jim’s patience was wearing thin now, and he stood up, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, and wandered slowly around the table, stopping to lean against it just in front of where Sebastian was sitting.

Seb stared fixedly at the edge of the table, not allowing himself to look up at his patient who now stood inches away.

They had never been so close.

“Sebastian.” Jim murmured, his voice soft and lulling, and Sebastian suddenly felt his fingers lightly trace over his jawline and stop underneath his chin, tipping Seb’s head up to face his own.

Even in the grubby asylum wear, Jim looked like an otherworldly being- if Sebastian hadn’t abandoned all religious beliefs long ago, he would have imagined this to be what angels looked like. His eyes bore into Seb’s relentlessly, and the doctor found himself standing up and stepping closer to Jim slowly, hypnotized.

Jim smirked as Seb leaned in, hands planted on either side of the table behind him.

“That’s it.” He said softly as their thighs came into contact, “Come to Daddy.”

Sebastian’s heart was hammering and his hands felt numb as the reached out to hold Jim gently by the waist. He was almost surprised when warmth met his fingers as a pose to icy cold stone or just air. Jim was real.

Sebastian leant down slowly and rested his forehead against the smaller man’s, breathing him in. He smelt like sweat and peppermint shampoo. Jim was real.

“Mmm.” Jim mused quietly as he leaned into Sebastian slightly; closing the gap between their chests.

In a haze, their lips met.

Sebastian could barely function enough to focus on what he was doing- the kiss was slow and gentle at first, and he felt a hand reach up and curl around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.

Seb fervently began to pick up the pace- Jim’s lips felt cool and rough, chapped skin rubbing against his own, encouraging him to kiss Jim deeper, despite the screaming voice of protest in the back of his head.

He ignored it, moving his hands up to explore his patient’s body as they kissed more passionately, Jim was letting Sebastian take the lead, he suspected on purpose, and he took full advantage of it.

He gripped the back of Jim’s head as he leant further into him, prying open his lips to slip his tongue between them. Jim ran his hands around Seb’s shoulders and down over his chest, pausing to begin undoing the buttons of his work shirt. Sebastian pulled away abruptly to assist him, hastily pulling the shirt over his head when only a few buttons remained done up.

Jim’s eyes flickered over Seb’s impressive upper body for a second before he moved in to Sebastian’s neck, pressing kisses across his throat and under his jaw. Seb tipped his head back and let his eyes slip closed, revelling in the feeling of Jim’s lips against his skin; the way the stubble of his face scratched slightly against him.

His eyes flicked open as an idea sparked in his head and he reached down the grab the hem of Jim’s t shirt, tugging it up suggestively.

A ghost of a smirk appeared on Jim’s face as he obliged, pulling the t shirt over his head and letting it drop to the floor. As Sebastian had suspected, he was surprisingly well toned.

Sebastian leaned in and kissed him with twice as much force as before, tongue meeting Jim’s eagerly as a low moan slipped from between his lips. Jim was real.

His hands were everywhere, and they melted into each other in a hot mess of lips and teeth and heavy breathing.

Suddenly, Jim pulled away slightly to look at Sebastian, eyes glowing with excitement.

“You’re gonna lose your job, Dr. You’re gonna lose everyythiiiing.” He murmured, eyes widening.

“I know.” Seb replied in a low voice, placing a light kiss on the other man’s lips.

“Is it worth it?” Jim asked quietly; his fingers were still knotted in Sebastian’s hair and he twirled them around gently.

“You know it’s worth it.”

“Hmm.” Jim smiled, “I want you to tell me.”

“It’s worth it, Jim.” Sebastian told him, “You’re worth it. I’ll lose everything. I’ll kill a thousand men if you want me to. Just if I can haaave you…”

He trailed off as Jim’s hand slid down to caress the shape straining against the fabric of Seb’s trousers.

“Jesus Christ.” He murmured as Jim undid the buttons easily and took Sebastian into his hand.

Jim raised his eyebrows, grin widening.

“Close, but not quite.”

An involuntary sound escaped between Seb’s teeth and what little control he had over his body evaporated; he grabbed Jim roughly and lifted him off the ground, pushing him up onto the table and standing between his legs.

Their faces were now the same height and Jim too seemed to abandon all restraint as he kissed his psychiatrist hungrily, and he moaned faintly as Seb- whose trousers and underwear were now pooled around his ankles- ran his hand over Jim's crotch.

“Sebastian.” He breathed.

“Mmm-hmm?” Sebastian murmured against Jim’s lips, one hand sliding under the waistband of Jim’s asylum uniform while the other was busy working on himself.

“You said you were going to make me sorry.”

“I am.” Seb answered, “I’m gonna make you so fucking sorry.”

Jim pushed him back a few inches, black eyes burning into Sebastian’s unforgivingly.

“Go on then.”

Sebastian did as he was told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment we've all been waiting for!! Nah but seriously though this is the closest thing resembling smut I've ever posted so any feedback would be great, all comments are very helpful to me and thank you to everyone who has commented/left Kudos on this work so far and I hope you enjoy what is (let's be honest) the most important chapter of any fic lol. Cheers!!


	6. Day 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter has some themes of childhood abuse and death.

“Dr Moran.”

Sebastian paused halfway down the corridor as he was addressed, spinning on his heel to see Arkham’s head psychiatrist watching him, the clipboard he had permanently attached to him held firmly at his side.

“Dr Wilson.” Seb greeted him in return, waiting expectantly for what was required of him.

Dr Wilson approached slowly, fingers tapping sporadically over the plastic casing of his beloved clipboard as he seemingly chewed over what he wanted to say.

“I don’t want to rush you, Dr, but I have a patient waiting.” Sebastian said pointedly- since he and Jim’s last session he had barely been able to make the seconds pass fast enough before he next saw his patient. He wasn’t going to lose precious time waiting for some old, poor excuse for a psychiatrist to get his words out.

“You’re not going to like this, Dr.” Seb’s superior sighed, fingers tapping furiously now, “I myself can’t see it being a good move but Collins was insistent.”

“What?” Seb asked.

”I’m going to have to re-assign your patient. You won’t be having sessions with him anymore.”

Sebastian’s stomach dropped to the floor.

“You can’t do that, we’re in the middle of therapy. You can’t just uproot everything he knows.”

“I’m sorry, Dr.” Dr Wilson replied, not looking Seb in the eye, “It’s just the patient’s guards aren’t happy with keeping you on as a therapist. They say it’s having a negative effect on the patient’s behaviour, nothing personal to you, I’m sure, sometimes a patient and doctor just clash.”

“His guards?” Sebastian demanded, his jaw tensed up as he felt anger boiling up inside him. “His guards don’t know anything, I’m Jim’s psychiatrist and I know what’s good for him; not them. You can’t just stop his therapy, he needs consistency.”

“Dr Moran.” Wilson said firmly, “James Moriarty is one of our most dangerous patients, we cannot risk allowing disruptive behavior to develop- it puts our staff at risk. And his therapy will continue with another doctor.”

Seb took a deep breath to prevent himself from seizing his superior’s clipboard and hurling it down the corridor, just to stop that fucking tapping.

“You’re worried about the safety of your staff?” He said in a low voice, “If you take me off Jim and assign another doctor to him then you’re going to have a problem with staff safety. You think his behaviour is disruptive now? Soon you’ll be begging me to come back. I’ll be damned if you can find another doctor who can handle that patient.”

Dr Wilson frowned, “We will do whatever is best for the patient and our staff, Dr, rest assured on that.”

“Whatever.” Sebastian muttered before turning and striding back down the corridor.

                                                                                                                        ***

The room was lit up suddenly with offensively white light. Sebastian screwed his eyes shut against it and tugged the covers further over himself as he turned over in bed, drifting back to sleep as the room fell dark again.

Suddenly, the light returned, accompanied by a harsh buzzing sound that pulled Sebastian more firmly into reality.

He rolled back over to squint at his phone which lay face up on the bedside table, casting light across the room. He reached over and grabbed it clumsily, unlocking it to read the blurry messages on the screen.

_Unknown Number:_

_Hello, traitor. Thought we’d do a little hit and run did we? Nice try. If you’re not back by next week I’ll have you killed._

_JM x._

Sebastian blinked, before his eyes dropped to the second message.  

_Unknown Number:_

_Seriously though. They’ve given me another doctor and she’s so indescribably awful I don’t think I can take it any longer. I might actually go insane for real._

_JM x._

Seb attempted to take this in- the messages were undoubtedly from Jim, even in his groggy, half asleep state he would recognize that tone anywhere, not to mention the signed initials. But how would Jim have got hold of a mobile phone inside the asylum, let alone Sebastian’s personal phone number?

He tried to compose a message back, struggling to decide what an appropriate response would be. Jim was clearly not happy about him being reassigned, and something about that death threat made Seb suspect a simple 'it wasn't my fault' wasn't going to appease him.

He got as far as,

_Jim?_

Before giving up and pressing send.

The reply was instant.

_Wow, you’re really on tip top form tonight aren’t you? Dreadfully clever, Dr._

_JM_

Seb’s heart was pounding at the prospect of Jim making contact; and he typed the next message eagerly.

_How did you get a phone?_

The screen lit up again in reply.

_I blackmailed one of the guards to smuggle me one in, they don’t take much persuading. Then I got in contact with some of my people who found your government file and the phone number you’re registered to. Easy Peasy._

_JM_

Sebastian shook his head at the reply; he didn’t know what he had been expecting. He glanced down as a second message appeared.

_Let’s talk. My guards go on an unofficial coffee break for an hour about now, I’ll be unsupervised._

_JM_

Seb sat up slightly in bed; it was 2:47 in the morning. He rubbed his eyes and was about to reply when his phone started buzzing for the third time.

_Incoming Call: Unknown Number_

It vibrated in his hand for a few seconds before he answered, still in a state of slight confusion,

“Hello?”

“Ooh, hello. Someone has a sexy ‘I just woke up’ voice.”

Sebastian felt his face splitting into a smile.

“You don’t sound too bad over the phone yourself.”

It was true, a few days without hearing the lull of Jim’s voice and he had all but forgotten the effect it had on him.

“Don’t bother flirting with me, Sebastian. I haven’t forgiven you for dumping me.” Jim replied.

“You flirted with me.” Sebastian argued.

“As if I would. I’m still waiting for your explanation and it better be good.”

Sebastian chose his words carefully.

“The head doctor told me you’d been reassigned, there was nothing I could do. I argued but he wouldn’t listen, in a maximum security place like Arkham they’re pretty rigid with these things.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Jim?”

“Oh, that’s it?” Jim replied, voice full of mock surprise, “I was waiting to hear what you did about it but you just _argued_. Very gallant of you. I’m surprised that didn’t work out I mean like you said, there really was _nothing_ else you could do.”

“Well obviously I was planning ways to get him to change his mind-“

“Oh, wow. Really pushing the boat out.” Jim cut him off sarcastically.

“Well what else would you propose I did?” Seb demanded.

“What happened to ‘I would kill a thousand men for you, Jim’? Or was that just pillow talk?” Jim’s smooth voice was venomous.

“No.” Sebastian growled.

“Well in that case I’m ready to cash in one or two of my thousand souls. However many it takes, just don’t be too messy.”

“You want me to kill someone so I can carry on giving you therapy?” Seb asked slowly.

“Well I don’t want you to do it because I’m telling you, I want you to want to do it.”

Sebastian took a deep breath- when he said he would kill a thousand men if Jim wanted him to he hadn’t expected that promise to come into practice quite so soon. He’d killed more people than he could count on both hands while in the army, not including the one that was out of conduct, but murder on the outside was different. He tried to imagine himself pulling the trigger when face to face with a doctor instead of another soldier; a colleague instead of a stranger.

“Pleeeaaasse, Sebastian.” Jim’s voice drifted through the phone.

“Okay.” He found himself saying, some part of his subconscious desperate to please his patient.

He could feel Jim smirking into the handset.

“Happy?” Seb asked him.

“Yes. Bored though. Tell me a story.”

“I don’t have any stories.” Sebastian’s brow furrowed at the strange request.

“Oh come on, yes you do. Tell me about your childhood.”

“I’ve already told you about my childhood.” Seb replied.

“No you haven’t.” Jim argued, “You’ve told me parts but not the whooole story, and I think it’s time we got to the bottom of those daddy issues of yours, don’t you?”

Seb couldn’t bring himself to say ‘I don’t have daddy issues’, so he began to talk.

“My father was a priest, he ran the church in the town where we lived, everyone knew him. He was well respected. I was terrified of him; he put the fear of God in me when I was a kid.

We lived in a pretty small area, there was only one school, and everyone knew I was Father Augustus Moran’s son. I used to get into fights a lot when I was younger and got a bit of a reputation- he hated that. Said I was dragging his name through the mud. When I did something bad he used to say,

‘You best hope you don’t die quietly in your seep tonight, boy. Or the Devil will crawl out from under your bed and drag you down to Hell.’

I used to lie awake all night.

Then when I got older he started executing God’s justice himself- the worst time was when he caught me with some guy I met in the pub when I was 16. He found out his son’s unholy orientation the hard way. He prayed to God for forgiveness, and beat seven shades out of me just for good measure.

Then when I was 17 my mother died. It was out of the blue- she had a brain tumour and didn’t even know about it. She was a weak-willed woman, usually took my father’s side when we argued, but she was still my mother. That bastard didn’t give a shit when she died. Dropped dead right in front of him and he didn’t even bat an eyelid. He told me it was ‘God’s will’. That’s when I left home.

I told him I wasn’t willing to believe in any kind of higher power that would allow something like that to happen. He said if I renounced God I would go to Hell. I said that bullshit wasn’t going to work on me anymore. He just looked at me, didn’t say a word, like he’d always been expecting it. I knew I had always been a disappointment to him.

I left, fucked about twenty guys in two weeks just to spite him, then when I run out of money I joined the army. That’s it.”

He took a deep breath- he hadn’t realised he’s been talking for quite so long, describing in reasonable detail the a part of his life he would rather not relive. He waited for a response numbly, unsure what he hoped to gain from sharing all of that with Jim.

Finally Jim spoke. “Tragic. Good thing you’ve got me now.”

Sebastian’s heart began to hammer again.

“You’re going to get me a free pass into Heaven?” He asked sarcastically.

He could hear the smirk in Jim’s voice.

“Your father wasn’t lying when he said the Devil was going to come and drag you to Hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a bit slow to update over Christmas but I've got lots of ideas of where to take this fic in the new year so please bear with me! (that's if Sherlock season 4 doesn't kill me, my lord) and as always feedback is greatly appreciated and thank you for reading x


	7. Day 28

Sebastian didn’t have a plan of any description.

He was beginning to wish he had put some preparations in place as he pushed open the heavy steel door of the asylum and passed through the security measures, greeting the guard with a nod as he signed in. He decided the only real place to start was to find Collins- he knew that bribe was going to come back to bite him, and Dr Wilson had named Jim’s guard as the initiator of reassigning him.

Seb’s fingers twitched as he considered this; he didn’t know what Collins’ problem was. No one in Arkham was particularly rigid on protocol, and so long as Sebastian was keeping Jim happy and under control he didn’t understand why his guards would want to disrupt the peace. Maybe he upped his price, thought that if he rocked the boat Seb would pay up more for the sake of smooth sailing. Sebastian grimaced- he wasn’t accustomed to being blackmailed, and wasn’t about to start now.

The guard was just leaving the office as Seb turned into the corridor and called out,

“Collins, can I talk to you for a moment?”

He turned and stared at Sebastian with an unimpressed expression.

“If this is about-“

“Fifty dollars didn’t cut it?” Seb interrupted him.

The guard scowled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t fucking talk shit to me.”

Sebastian was inches from him now, towering a full head taller.

“Dr Moran.” Collins answered slowly, “I’m going to need you to take a step back.”

Sebastian considered this for a moment- there was cctv on the corridor- before obliging, smoothing his expression into one of reason.

“Sorry, just having a bit of a stressful morning. I wonder if we could talk inside the office?”

Dr Collins regarded him for a moment, wiry eyebrows furrowing.

“Fine.” He finally decided, striding past Sebastian, who had to refrain from raising his eyebrows in surprise at his colleague’s stupidity. Clearly this was going to be easier than he expected.

He turned on his heel to enter the office, closing the door behind him as Collins took a seat at the small desk in the corner, twisting back and forth in it idly.

“So I guess Dr Wilson told you about being reassigned?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Sebastian remained standing, still unsure of how he planned to go ahead.

Collins raised his hands. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Seb took a step forward.

“I want you to tell me why you told him I wasn’t fit to continue treating my patient.”

“I didn’t-“ Collins began before Sebastian interrupted him again.

“I told you not to talk shit. He told me it was you, I just want to know what your fucking problem is.”

The other man rose from his chair slowly, crossing his beefy arms across his chest.

“You removed security measures essential for a highly dangerous patient against protocol, Dr, that’s my problem.”

“ _You_ did that. And you didn’t seem to have a problem with it at the time.” Seb retorted.

“I had a wave of moral remorse.” Collins growled.

Sebastian took another step closer to the desk, the cheap wooden furniture the only thing standing between himself and the guard.

“Look; I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not stupid. But you’re not going to get any more money off me.” He warned, eyes baring into the other man’s.

Collins smirked unpleasantly. “Well then I’m afraid you won’t be seeing anymore of your beloved patient. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been an absolute nightmare trying to find him a new therapist the past week; we’ve had three options walk out after one session already. They’re always so keen in the beginning, then they go in that room for an hour and next thing they’re refusing to continue. I don’t know what he’s doing to them in there, doctor patient privacy and all that shit, maybe you have an idea.”

His smirk crawled further across his wide face as he watched Sebastian, waiting for his response.

“I told you other Doctors couldn’t handle him.” Seb replied simply, fighting to keep his voice level as his fingers began to twitch with anger.

Collins answered coldly.

“Don’t worry, Dr, we’ll find someone.”

Barely a second passed after Collins finished talking before Sebastian strode around the desk and shoved the guard against the back wall of the office, one hand seizing his assigned gun and the other forearm pressed against his neck.

“You’ve got someone.” Sebastian growled, pulling back the slide of the gun with a click and holding it against Collins’ head.

Collins attempted to struggle, eyes wide as he choked out,

“Jesus Christ.”

“Not quite.” Seb replied with a smirk, before shoving the guard’s head back sharply, letting it smack the grubby concrete wall behind. Collins groaned.

“Now I’m going to give you one more chance.” Sebastian warned, face inches from Collins’,

“You’re going to get me reassigned to James Moriarty, you’re going to tell Dr Wilson it was all a mistake, and you’re not going to mention this little encounter to anyone. Understand?”

The guard nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as Seb pressed down harder on his neck before relieving the pressure and stepping back, lowering the gun.

“Good.” Sebastian glared at him, “And if you somehow manage to fuck that up, next time I’ll kill you.”

He made to turn away, before movement in his peripheral vision caused his head to snap back around. Collins made a lunge for the gun, clutching Sebastian’s wrist as he tried to wrestle it out of his hand. Seb grabbed the back of his head and thrust it down, slamming it onto the wooden desk and twisting Collins’ arm behind him as it fell slack. He lifted the gun back to Collins’ head, finger holding the trigger steadily.

“What did I _just fucking say?”_ Sebastian growled through gritted teeth.

“You can’t kill me.” Collins argued desperately, “They’ll know it was you, they’ll find you here, and there’s CCTV.”

Sebastian made a mental note to find and erase the CCTV footage from the corridor.

“And I would be a suspect, why? You’re forgetting we’re in a building full of the criminally insane; I’ve got plenty of scapegoats.”

“When you fire the gun!” Collins argued, “They’ll come straight away!”

“Actually, you’ve got a point. I can’t kill you with this.”

Seb looked at the gun for a moment before tossing it aside and slamming the guard’s head against the desk with twice as much force as the first time. Then he pushed him upright and smacked it against the wall; that time a trickle of blood ran down the side of the man’s face and he let out a gargled moan. Seb pulled his head back and thrust it forward again. Then a fifth time. Then a sixth.

After that there was a visible dent in the guard’s head, and hot, sticky blood was dripping down across his face, which was now motionless. Sebastian released his body, which slumped to the floor with a thud, and took a step back.

He felt eerily calm. There was no adrenaline, no unbridled fury like that which he had felt the first time he had killed with his bare hands; all the anger he had felt towards Collins had strangely dissolved as he had driven the life from his body. It just felt necessary, like he was carrying out a job.

Jim had asked him to do it; so he had.

A nagging sensation pulled him back to reality and he swiftly began wiping his fingerprints off the gun, pausing only as his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He pulled it out, a smirk creeping onto is face despite himself.

_Very impressive, Sebastian. A little messier than my usual style but what I can I say? I like a bit of rough. Just clean up after yourself and pop in for a little visit when you’re done. I’ve missed you._

_JM x_

                                                                                                                           ***

One of Jim’s other guards was posted outside his cell when Sebastian got there, fingering his keys idly in front of him.

“Dr Moran.” He raised his eyebrows slightly as he saw Seb approach.

“I’m here to check on my patient.” Seb told him.

“But, you-“ The guard- who’s name Sebastian had never bothered to learn- began before he was interrupted.

“Collins is assigning me back, I spoke with him earlier. He told me to discuss the changes with the patient today and resume sessions tomorrow, I believe an e-mail has been sent.” Seb recited in monotone.

An email had been sent; by Sebastian. After cleaning his fingerprints from the gun and placing it back into Collin’s hand he had sent a few emails around from his account regarding the apparent plans to reassign the Dr. That would cause some confusion about time of death and let him off the hook too, he thought. Then he had let himself into the security office and fiddled around with some of the footage, enough for the inconsistencies to be treated as technical faults as a pose to suspicious.

The guard looked him up and down before apparently deciding this was evidence enough, stepping aside to allow Sebastian to pass.

“Alright, but stay three feet from the glass, you’re not really supposed to be in there.” He warned.

Sebastian ignored him, pushing open the steel door and walking down the steps into a large room full of artificial light. It looked like a large metal box; three out of four walls were a dull metallic grey and flanked by a series of bars from floor to ceiling, the fourth was reinforced glass, smeary and covered in flaking signs saying ‘KEEP BACK’.

There was a bunk on the far side of the room, and a sink and cabinet in the opposite corner.

Jim was stood in the centre of the cell, as if he had been waiting. He cocked his head to the side and smiled as their eyes met.

“There’s my homicidal maniac.”

Seb grimaced. “You’re the one on the wrong side of that glass.”

Jim rolled his eyes, “A disastrous mistake on their behalf. Come here.”

Sebastian glanced warily at the security cameras in the top corner of the room.

“The cameras don’t work. It’s just a preventative measure; placebo effect.” Jim assured him, his smile growing wider as he took another step towards the glass.

Seb mirrored him, moving closer and running his knuckle against the cool surface. He looked up as Jim’s breath fogged up the glass in front of him. His heart began to pound- he had only ever been this close to him once before, and he was still to fully recover from that experience.

He could see the stubble on Jim’s cheek, the clammy surface of his skin, each wiry black hair that had been combed back from his face.

Jim reached out and placed his palm on the glass where Seb’s own hand was hovering, black eyes glowing with fascination. Sebastian mirrored him again, letting out a shaky breath which cast a temporary grey cloud across the glass, before leaning his head forward slowly and letting it rest on the cool surface. His eyes slipped closed, breathing deeply as he tried to slow his heart rate, and the prior events of that day were all but lost to him as he stood inches from his patient.

Jim took a slight step back as Sebastian’s eyes closed. He rolled his head until his neck clicked as a smirk slid onto his face at the sight of the man in front of him, motionless as a puppet whose strings had been cut.

His smile grew wider as he watched his doctor bite his lip, black eyes cutting through the reflection of the puppet master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait for this one, hopefully there will be a shorter period between chapters from now on!  
> Took a little inspiration from TFP from this chapter, I thought the Moriarty/Eurus scene in the cell was a really cool way of visually showing the way their characters mirror each other and I wanted to play around with that idea a bit in my story. Hope you enjoy!


	8. Day 29

Sebastian drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the car as he made a sharp turn- ignoring he chorus of beeps that followed him around the corner. He’d learnt to drive in London, and was having a hard time adjusting to the more generous allocation of space the American roads granted him. Regardless, he didn’t spare much thought to the other road users as his speakers blasted a collection of post-grunge music he had acquired a taste for during his teenage years. Anything he thought his father would hate made it onto the mixtape.

He turned the music down as he pulled into the asylum, pausing to check his reflection in his rear view mirror before getting out of the car. He smirked as he did so, remembering what Jim had once said about the shirt he was wearing.

_That shirt brings out the sapphire in your eyes, Dr. A conscious decision on your part, I’m sure, either way it’s working on me._

It hadn’t been a conscious decision the first time.

Jim hit him with a filthy grin as he walked in, one which he couldn’t help but mirror.

“Hello, Sebastian.”

“Hello, Jim.” Seb answered, running his hand over his hair as he sat down.

“How are we feeling?” He asked his patient in true psychiatrist fashion, trying to maintain some order for at least the first five minutes of the session.

Jim raised his arms to his sides slowly before declaring,

“Aliiiiive.”

Seb raised his eyebrows.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Don’t be such a downer.” Jim lowered his arms, still smiling.

There was a slight hint of mania in his eyes which seemed to light every nerve ending in Sebastian’s body on fire.

Seb got out of his chair and crossed the table to where Jim sat, body moving a few thought processes ahead of his mind, before leaning down and kissing his patient hungrily.

Jim responded easily, head tipped back and hands still resting on the arms of his chair.

Seb cupped both sides of Jim’s jaw as the other man stood slowly, twisting around to lean back on the table. They kissed eagerly for what could have been seconds or hours before Sebastian pulled away and rested his forehead on Jim’s, eyebrows furrowed.

Jim’s dark eyes met his and he fluttered his eyelashes as the smile returned.

“Oh my.”

“You know I haven’t stopped thinking about our last session..” Sebastian trailed off as he leant down to inhale Jim’s scent deeply, their lips brushing together.

“How flattering.” Jim replied, “And with all the excitement in your life recently.”

Seb paused, drawing back a little. He’d been doing his best to push the events of the previous day to the back of his mind; he’d felt strangely airy as he left the asylum the night before, and remained light as a feather for the rest of the evening until he finally climbed into bed in the early hours and allowed himself to think.

It wasn’t the first time he’d taken a life, but something about it still felt new; it was the first time he’d taken a life for Jim.

 _One down, Nine Hundred and Ninety Nine to go,_ he thought numbly.

“Can we not talk about that.” He asked stiffly; more of a statement than a question.

“If it makes you uncomfortable.” Jim’s tone was light and gentle, but Sebastian sensed an air of displeasure in his answer.

Seb leant down again, burying his face in the crook of Jim’s neck in an attempt to distract them both from the topic of conversation.

He kissed Jim’s skin gently, pulling the hem of his t shirt down to allow his lips to reach the man’s collar bone and shoulder blade before moving back up to his jawline. His heart was thrumming as he lost himself in his patient once again, barely noticing when Jim mumbled absent-mindedly,

“Fires.”

“Hmm?” Seb inquired into his throat.

“You wanted to know about my childhood, in our first session. I started fires. People’s sheds, the local post office, shops, bus stations, the school chapel- they caught me for that one. I got a little too ambitious, but I was a little sloppy back then. I was still two steps ahead though, they never could keep up with me after that- so, what’s your diagnosis, Dr?”

Seb met his eyes- the mania was quieter now, but somehow even more prominent.

“There are many psychological factors behind arson.” He said, fully aware this wasn’t the answer Jim wanted.

Moriarty looked at him- there was a sadness in his eyes, and for a second he appeared so much younger than Seb knew him to be.

“You had to let it out.” Sebastian stated slowly, not entirely sure what he was referring to.

“I had to let it out.” Jim repeated, “There was so _much._ I was so _much. In here.”_

He tapped the side of his head with frustration, screwing his eyes shut.

“You were burning on the inside, you needed a release.” Seb told him; something in Jim’s voice was ringing inside him, like a chime that had lied within all these years had finally been struck with the right note. Something in Jim’s voice was resonating with a young boy who started fights in school and was terrified of his father.

“I’m always burning.” Jim’s eyes snapped open suddenly, darting around the room as if Sebastian wasn’t inches away from his face.

“Always burning, always always always.   _Burning._ ” He continued to murmur as Seb leant closer again, holding his face still firmly.

“Jim.”

Jim didn’t respond, eyes looking straight through his doctor into a realm Sebastian couldn’t see.

Seb began to panic; Jim had displayed instability before, sudden outbursts of anger being the most prominent example, but he’d never seen him like this.

“Jim, listen to me. If you’re burning,” He told him, the words spilling out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying,

 “I’ll burn with you.”

Jim’s eyes suddenly sharpened; focusing on Sebastian as if only just noticing he was there.

“I’ll burn.” Seb repeated as Jim’s pupils dilated visibly, his mouth twisting into a faint smile.

“You already are.”

                                                                                                                    ***

The remaining time of the session passed considerably quickly after their lips met again. Sebastian was once again lost in the haze that was Jim Moriarty; the feel of his breath, the touch of his fingertips, tracing lightly over the scars he found on Seb’s skin.

“You’re a little roughed up, sweetheart.” Jim murmured as his eyes swept over a particularly ugly mark that curved down from Seb’s armpit and across his ribs.

“I was in the army for nearly a decade, cut me some slack.” Sebastian smirked as Jim drew shapes on his chest with his finger.

“You could have taken better care of yourself.”

“I’ve got you to take care of me now.” Seb placed his thumb underneath Jim’s chin and tipped his face upwards,

“Right?”

“Whatever you want.” Jim’s tone was a little too disinterested for Sebastian’s liking, a little too distant. He leant in and kissed him roughly, forcing his tongue between the other man’s lips as he gripped the back of his head and tangled his fingers in his hair.

That seemed to finally capture Jim’s full attention, and he indulged Seb in the kiss for a few moment before pulling away and taking a step back, leaving a few inches between them.

“You’re very impatient, aren’t you, Sebastian? How does that work, a sniper who just can’t wait for _anything?”_

“I don’t like waiting for you.” Seb answered, reaching out to slide his hand into one of the baggy pockets of Jim’s sweatpants.

“Learn to.” Jim’s eyes hardened as he replied, and Sebastian paused in his action, apparently frozen under Jim’s gaze.

A sudden sound from across the room made his head snap around.

“Dr Moran, you-“ A voice began before its owner appeared from around the door and lost track of what he was saying.

“Shit.”

Sebastian jumped to attention, suddenly painfully aware of the space, or lack thereof, between he and his patient’s bodies and the way both their shirts had been tossed over the back of his chair.

The fact of this weighed heavy in the room, and a few seconds passed in complete silence, the guard who had entered hovering in the doorway and staring at Sebastian in disbelief.

“Oooops.” Jim spoke first, and Seb didn’t need to look at him to hear that he was smiling.

“Fuck’s sake,” Seb muttered before striding across the room and slamming the door shut, simultaneously yanking the guard inside the room.

“Haven’t you ever heard of fucking doctor/patient confidentiality?” He demanded from the man as he thrust him down into the chair, not bothering to put his shirt back on; the damage was already done.

Jim strolled over and took the seat opposite, eyes alive with amusement, the previous air of preoccupation gone.

Sebastian turned to him,

“What the fuck are we going to do with him?” He ran a hand over his head in frustration.

Jim raised his eyebrows and shrugged mockingly,

“I would have thought that obvious.”

“Not another one.” Seb exhaled exasperatedly.

“Another- it was _you?_ Wilson?” The guard stuttered and made to get out of the chair before Sebastian took a step towards him and put a hand on his shoulder, slamming him back down into the seat.

“No you don’t.”

He walked around the back of the chair and placed a hand on either side of the man’s head.

“I’ll make this quick.”

He twisted, rewarded with a sickening crunch.

“Wooaaaahh.” Jim drawled, “That was intense. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a teensy bit aroused.”

Sebastian glared at him, “Are you always so blasé about death?”

“Oh, come on, Sebastian.” Jim replied, “It’s natural, we all do it.”

“That didn’t need to happen.” Seb muttered, “We got cocky. And how the fuck am I going to cover this up?”

Jim’s eyes widened in mock fear, mouth still smiling.

“The Arkham Annihilator strikes again.”

“You’re a fucking handful.” Seb told him.

Something flickered across Jim’s face- the brief look of sadness Sebastian had noticed earlier- before he regained his smug expression. Seb frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as a tight knot of concern twisted in his stomach. He had a nagging feeling something was wrong, something was off, something with Jim.

 _Of course something is wrong._ He thought bitterly, _he’s insane._

But there had been something in the man’s expression, something burning deep within that worried Sebastian in his gut. Blinked and you would have missed it.

Sebastian didn’t blink.


	9. Day 30

He was dreaming again.

Jim was with him, the sheets of Sebastian’s unmade bed tangled about them; the moon was huge. Seb kissed him, tasting peppermint on his lips as he twisted his fingers in his black hair and pulled him closer. They weren’t in America, but back in Sebastian’s childhood home. The walls were still lined with posters of Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath, packets of cigarettes still stuffed underneath the mattress. Jim was smiling,

_You were always mine._

Sebastian asked him about his childhood again, but received no answer, only kisses. The window was open, and for a second he thought he could see the sun rising, orange and red being thrown across his vision.

He kissed Jim for a long time before he realized the house was burning down.

***

There were armed guards outside the car park and the main entrance of the asylum when Sebastian arrived, checking his identification as he was escorted through multiple new layers of security.

“Whole place is on lockdown now the staff keep dropping dead.” One of the guards explained to him on the way in,

“They’re hardly letting anyone in and out- the police have been investigating but they can’t find anything, someone’s been fucking around with the CCTV. Creepy, right? It’s not like they can narrow down the suspects either, place is full of nutjobs.”

Seb didn’t answer, grabbing his bag as soon as it was returned to him after searching and striding down the corridor.

Jim was back in his straightjacket when Sebastian entered the room and there was a large, purple bruise blooming over his left cheekbone.

Sebastian froze in the doorway as he saw him, clenching his teeth subconsciously.

“Who did that?”

Jim didn’t answer, just licked his lips and stared at his doctor, face dark and unreadable.

“I said who did it, Jim? Tell me.” Sebastian stepped forward, rage coiling in his chest as his eyes swept over his patient and noticed the shadow of a second bruise creeping up his neck.

“Why would I tell you?” Jim cocked his head to one side.

“So I can kill them.” Seb replied immediately, “I’ll cave their fucking face in, please, Jim, I won’t let this happen again.”

He put his hands on the table as he looked at Jim pleadingly. His fingers twitched involuntarily and he ground his teeth; he needed to hurt whoever had hurt Jim. It was like an instinct, an animal need rooted within him that had to be obeyed.

Jim remained expressionless- sat back in his chair with his arms wrapped around himself.

“I’m out of control, Dr, I’m a danger to myself and those around me. I need to be contained.” He quoted in a surprisingly convincing American accent, the hint of a smirk touching his eyes.

“Who did it?” Sebastian repeated in a low voice.

“I did it, to myself. When I chose to act out and be uncooperative.” Jim continued mimicking his guards’ accent.

“Stop it.” Seb pushed himself away from the desk, running a hand through his hair roughly as he paced across the room.

He didn’t remember making the decision to punch the wall; just the sharp pain rippling from his knuckles down his arm as he felt a small release of the anger building up inside him. He shook his hand, wincing in pain and frustration.

He didn’t remember hearing Jim get out of his seat either, just feeling a finger trace lightly over his spine, up and down. He relaxed into the touch, shoulders slumping as Jim stroked the bumps running down his back.

“When you’re hurt,” Seb breathed deeply, voice quiet, “It hurts me too.”

“Why?” Jim spoke softly, but his tone was emotionless.

“Because that’s how it is now, how it’s always going to be. Didn’t you realise that?”

 “I suppose I did.” Jim said.

Sebastian turned to face him as a thought dawned on him- Jim’s straightjacket was gone, discarded on the chair across the room. He wore a plain grey t shirt underneath, it had a small hole next to the collar.

“How did you get out of that?” Seb asked, frowning.

Jim rolled his eyes, smiling at Sebastian condescendingly.

“They’ve been trying to keep me in straightjackets since I was a child, it’s a ridiculously simple and flawed design.”

Seb gazed at him- the darkness of the bruise was stark against his pale skin, almost like a splatter of ink on a white canvas. Even in this state, he was a work of art.

“Wait, since you were a child?” He suddenly remembered what Jim had said about setting fire to the school chapel,

_They caught me for that one._

“Where were you?”

Jim turned and walked back to the table, leaning against it casually.  

“A _fascinating_ tale for another time. Right now, we need to decide what you’re going to do.”

Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

“What _I’m_ going to do?”

“Yes, Sebastian Moran, what you are going to do!” Jim sang,  

“People are dying at your hand rather frequently and now you’ve started I’ve got a feeling your little habit is going to be difficult to give up. Here is hardly the place for it.”

“So what are you proposing, that I leave?” Seb demanded, ignoring the twist in his stomach at the idea of Jim not wanting him around anymore.

“If you would let me finish,” Jim drawled, “I’m getting bored. Keeping myself entertained in between our sessions is becoming impossible and I don’t want to be here anymore. Don’t love getting beaten up either.”

He made a face and eyed a bruise on his forearm.

Sebastian stared at him.

“You’re saying you want me to help you escape?” He asked slowly, trying to adjust to that suggestion in his head.

“Yup.” Jim confirmed cheerfully, popping the ‘p’ of his reply.

Seb made an exasperated sound.

“And how the fuck am I supposed to do that? If I even agree.”

He walked back over to the table and sat down next to where Jim was standing.

“Oh come on, you’ll think of something,” Jim put his hands in his pockets,

“And I know you’ll agree.”

“Oh yeah?” Seb asked bitterly, staring down at the edge of the table.

“We both know how much you love pleasing me.” Jim’s tone was so smug it should have been irritating, but there was truth in the words that Sebastian couldn’t argue with.

“This is ridiculous.” He stated, “I can’t break you out of a fucking asylum. And where would we go even if we did manage it? Go and live in the woods? Be on the run for the rest of our lives?”

“I have a _network,_ Sebastian.” Jim answered monotonously, “And more money than you could ever hope to make in ten lifetimes. You’d be surprised how far those two teensy things would get you.”

Seb bit his lip.

“Even then, say we got back to London, what would we do then? What would _I_ do? My career would be over. Are you just going to discard me once I stop being useful?”

He didn’t look at Jim, fearful for the answer he might see in his face if he did.

A mock gasp made Seb look up- Jim’s eyes were wide and his mouth open in an exaggerated offended expression.

“Do you really think so little of me, Dr?” His voice was a notch higher than usual, and even trembled convincingly with false emotion.

Sebastian glowered at him, narrowing his eyes at Jim’s huge, glistening ones.

“Yes.”

The look fell from Jim’s face and was replaced by his own easy smirk.

“You think I’m a bad person, don’t you?”

Seb lifted his hands to gesture to their surroundings pointedly,

“You don’t?”

Jim rolled his eyes backwards into his head until only the whites were showing; it was an unnerving habit he had. Seb dropped his eyes.

“Good and bad are social constructs I don’t bother myself with. There’s only boring stuff and interesting stuff, the former greatly outweighing the latter.”

Sebastian didn’t allow himself to consider possible diagnosis’ that could come from a blatant lack of understanding of moral code.

“And I’m interesting?” He asked instead.

Jim put a finger under Seb’s chin and tipped his head up as he had once before, looking into his eyes.

“Sebastian,” He murmured, “I could look at that face for hours. There’s so much pain in you, so much heartbreak. It’s all good.”

Seb didn’t entirely understand what he was talking about, but stayed still, gazing into Jim’s eyes.

“I had a dream about you last night.” He found himself telling him.

Jim raised his eyebrows in feign surprise.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian mumbled, “You burned my house down.”

Jim let go of his chin and laughed.

“That sounds accurate.”

***

Sebastian spent all night trying to draw up plans for Jim’s escape- he was struggling. He’d gained an excellent mind for strategy during his time in the army, but with all the new security measures in place at the asylum, smuggling an inmate out seemed almost impossible. Of course, they always had the willingness of the staff to turn a blind eye in favour of bribes, but it was too risky to balance the entire operation on the willingness of outsiders.

They would need help from the outside; back up. Sebastian alone wasn’t enough, they would need a whole team of people to set up some kind of distraction while others disabled the security and more escorted Jim out and took him to safety.

It was 4.49 am when he texted Jim, finally giving up attempts to orchestrate the plan alone.

_Trying to work out your fucking escape plan, it’s going to be impossible if we don’t have more people._

The screen lit up immediately with a reply.

_More people can be arranged._

_JM_

Sebastian paused, not expecting it to be quite so easy, before typing again.

_We’ll need at least 20 who know what they’re doing. I can figure out a way but only if everyone knows how to follow orders and stick to the plan._

The reply, again, was instant.

_Anything for you._

_JM x_

Seb sat back in his chair, heart thumping. If he was really going to do this, everything would change. He would damage his career in Psychiatry beyond repair, one which had taken him so long to build up after being thrown out of the army, and on top of that he would be _wanted_ for the rest of his life. It was a risk, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that it wasn’t a choice.

This wasn’t the big decision, this was the final step in a decision he had already made. He set himself up for this when he let Jim flirt with him, when he flirted back, when he _had sex_ with him in the _fucking therapy room._

He wanted to curse himself for his stupidity, but couldn’t bring himself to. Yes, had none of this ever happened he would still have a steady career and be more or less anonymous to the police, but he would still be alone, unhappy, bored.

Jim gave his life purpose, if nothing else. A reason to get up in the morning.

He locked his phone and left it on the table, not bothering to retire to his bedroom as he slumped down onto the sofa and fell asleep.


	10. Day 35

A week passed and Sebastian hardly slept. He spent most of his time while not at work making preparations for the escape, and he and Jim had been spending the majority of their sessions discussing it. It was fascinating to see Jim work- Seb had only ever known him inside the asylum, but found himself mesmerized by the Moriarty the outside world knew as the infamous consulting criminal. He was a genius, undeniably. Sebastian had always considered himself to be of above average intelligence, but even he found it increasingly difficult keeping up with Jim.

He’d brought pens and paper to the sessions, under the pretense of art therapy, and Jim had filled an entire notepad of plans and ideas, meticulously making notes and linking things together in his tiny scrawl.

Sebastian had been watching him on the fifth day of planning as he finalized some decisions, eyebrows arching over his eyes as they swept over the paper.

“We’re done.” He finally declared, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“You’re incredible.” Seb told him.

Jim smiled, clicking his neck,

“It has been said.”

“No. Now I’m telling you.” Sebastian argued, standing up and striding towards his patient.

Jim’s eyes burned as Seb pushed the table to one side and grabbed the collar of the smaller man’s t shirt, pulling him to his feet as their lips met. Seb kissed him roughly and spun him around to lift him onto the table with ease.

“You’re fucking amazing.” He murmured into Jim’s mouth in between tugging the white asylum t shirt off.

Jim responded just as passionately, smiling as he deepened the kiss, hands sliding underneath Seb’s shirt to trace over the scarred skin of his chest.

Seb unbuttoned it hastily, pulling it over his head and pinning Jim to the table once more. He pushed him backwards slowly until they were lying on it, Sebastian taking his weight on his elbows as their thighs pressed together.

A low moan slipped through his teeth as Jim’s hand slipped in between them and busied itself undoing Seb’s trousers.

Jim’s other hand twisted into Sebastian’s hair as his doctor leant down to kiss his neck hungrily, biting down on the skin to stifle a sound of pleasure. He felt sure he’d never wanted anyone so much in his life. He knew Jim wanted him too; regardless of his blasé attitude at times, Sebastian hadn’t missed Jim’s pupils dilate when Seb’s eyes met his, or the hint of desperation in his fingertips as they gripped him closer.

“You’re…you’re all I…want.” Sebastian murmured, “I want you so bad.”

“Shut up.” Jim responded, bringing their lips together once more to silence him.

“No, listen to me,” Seb argued, “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. You’re so different, you’re everything now. You’re the one.”

Jim pulled away and raised his eyebrows, Sebastian only then realizing what he had just said.

“Wait, I didn’t mean that to come out, I just meant-“ He began before Jim interrupted him.

“I’m the one?” He fluttered his eyelashes, black eyes glinting.

Seb glowered at him.

“You know what I fucking meant.”

“Yes, honey, I did.” Jim replied, smirking as he leant up to kiss Sebastian again.

***

Sebastian left home half an hour early the next morning, armed with a handgun he kept close at all times; an old army habit. Carrying was legal here anyway.

Jim had given him the number of a man he simply referred to as ‘Gabriel’, whether that was his real name Seb doubted, and had instructed them to meet on the morning of the mission. Sebastian had immediately been suspicious of his new contact, having not yet met any of Jim’s employees, and the note of respect, if not fondness, in Jim’s voice when he spoke of him set Seb’s teeth on edge.

He sat in a battered leather booth in the back of a diner in the center of Gotham, tapping his fingers on the table absent mindedly as he checked the time- 8.22. He was early, but glanced around for the man he was meeting nonetheless, eyebrows furrowed.

Another five minutes passed before a tall man pushed the door of the diner open, causing the bell to ding and Sebastian’s head to snap up. He immediately knew this was his guy- he had dark skin, a stoic expression as he scanned the room for Seb and was kitted out in an expensive looking grey suit.

Seb suddenly felt a little self-conscious in his work clothes- he’d never paid much attention to what he wore, all those years spent in army uniform hadn’t really prepared him for dressing in the real world. The plainer the better was his rule; left less room for error.

Their eyes met across the diner and Seb stood to shake Gabriel’s hand as he approached the table, confidence returning as he noticed he was a few inches taller than Jim’s ‘chief of staff’.

“Dr.” Gabriel greeted him courteously as he smoothed down his suit and sat down, resting his hands easily on the table in front of him.

“Gabriel.” Sebastian responded as he too took a seat, determined to appear as formal as possible.

“Mr Moriarty has sent me copies of the plan for the operation; I have delegated roles amongst my team, all should run smoothly. He will be escorted to a nearby checkpoint where a business associate has agreed the use of his helicopter pad, from there he will begin his journey back to London. I take it you will be amongst those leading him out of the asylum?”

Sebastian nodded.

“Yeah. I’ll stay with him.”

Gabriel nodded, taking out his phone and seemingly typing something.

“So, how long have you worked for Jim?” He found himself asking.

“Seven years now.” Gabriel answered, not looking up from his phone.

Seb raised his eyebrows,

“Long time.”

At a guess he would have put Gabriel in his late thirties if not early forties, a few years older than Jim and a decade older than Seb at a push. Still a possible threat then. He was reasonably handsome; not in the striking sense that Jim was, but in a quiet, modest way.

Gabriel looked up to see Sebastian eyeing him, and answered,

“Yes.”

Seb kept his gaze steady; a technique he had learnt while dealing with particularly challenging patients, asserting dominance. Not that it had ever worked with Jim, of course.

“He must trust you.” He stated.

“Is there something you wish to ask me, Dr Moran?” Gabriel asked, eyes giving away no hint of emotion.

Sebastian stared at him for a moment, trying to draw a judgement of the clinically formal man in front of him. He knew he was being paranoid; Jim didn’t strike him as the sort to mix business with pleasure, and even so it was none of his concern who may have gotten to his patient before him.

Nevertheless the thought made his skin crawl with jealousy.

Deciding now wasn’t the time for such thoughts, and not wishing to show weakness in front of Jim’s number one employee, Sebastian shook his head, forcing a smile.

“No. Shall we go?”

***

Jim smiled coldly when Sebastian arrived for their ‘therapy session’ that day, this time escorting three members of his team through security- the measures were abandoned after the entire body of staff had been called to the east wing of the asylum by a staged escaped patient. The distraction had run smoothly, and all Seb had needed to do was disarm the cameras and alarms in Jim’s ward and let his people in. They, like Gabriel, were clinical. That suited Seb fine; he was used to commanding soldiers during his time in the army and generally the more detached they were the more successful the operation ran.

“Morning.” Jim greeted them, eyes widening in a slightly unsettling expression as they entered the therapy room.

“Sir.” His employees responded immediately.

Sebastian just stayed quiet- he wasn’t used to witnessing Jim interact with others, and was concerned he too was expected to behave in a certain way in their company.

Jim had, again, shed his straightjacket, and wore only grey trainers, black sweatpants and a thin, white t shirt. The ghost of the bruise on his face still lingered, and his hair was a mess again, sticking up in multiple directions.

He stood and gestured to the door when there were a few moments of silence, Jim’s employees also seemingly unaware of how to treat the relationship between him and Sebastian.

“Well, go on then.”

Two immediately left, Jim followed smoothly between them, Sebastian and the third taking up the rear. The strolled through security without any interruptions, and Seb noticed Jim’s walk held a slight sway; an arrogance.

As they reached the final door leading out of the asylum, Jim paused and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and smiling. His people waited patiently.

After a few moments he pushed the doors open dramatically, casting daylight onto his face for the first time in months. He seemed to breathe it in as the wind whipped his hair up and raindrops caught in his eyelashes.

Sebastian noticed goosebumps raise on his bare arms, and slid off his leather jacket, handing it to Jim silently.

Jim smiled and took it, also without a word. Something fluttered in Seb’s stomach as he slipped it on- it was far too big, the sleeves coming down past his fingers and the shoulders hanging low on his back- but he looked good in it. The sight was ridiculously endearing.

They escorted Jim across the concrete to where a line of identical black cars and more staff were waiting, all of whom inclined their heads politely towards him, one opening the door to the middle car with a greeting of,

“Mr Moriarty.”

“Awh, bless you all for waiting here for me. I’ve missed my little entourage.” Jim greeted them as he climbed into the car, Seb’s jacket dotted with rain.

Sebastian hovered, unsure of where he was wanted. There was a pause before another member of staff opened the door to the car behind Jim’s, which had already begun to pull away,

“Dr Moran.” They gestured to the car politely, and Seb nodded and climbed in.

This didn’t mean anything. Moriarty had been locked away in the bowels of a high security asylum for months; it was no surprise he would want a bit of time to himself when he got out. This was just for the journey to Wayne Enterprises, after that they would travel back to London together, and then Jim would talk to him the way he had when they were alone.

He gazed out of the window as Gotham flashed by, thinking of the city a little wistfully. He had never been particularly fond of it, and felt a sense of relief to be finally heading back to London, but it was where he had met Jim, and the prospect of never returning made him feel a little melancholy. He spared a thought to his flat; Jim had assured him all of his belongings would be transferred to England, but Seb would certainly miss the bedroom window that opened all the way up and the convenience of the gym just down the road.

Wayne Enterprises was a skyscraper; looming tall over the grimy city menacingly. Sebastian stared at it as he was escorted out of the car and lead through the large revolving door. He didn’t see Jim, but followed his people silently into the lift and all the way up.

The penultimate floor was mostly open plan, with lavish, minimalist décor and sure enough, a door leading out to a helicopter pad where a chopper was waiting. There were more staff up here, but not Jim’s. Seb could tell by the way they stood; more relaxed, not such constant wariness.

He glanced around for their employer as a few of Jim’s people began conversing quietly with the other staff, a sense of relief washing over him as he heard the familiar Irish lilt drift in through an opening door.

“-Well sort Conduit road then, it really isn’t a difficult task. God, I leave you people alone for a few months and this is what happens.”

He strolled in, followed by Gabriel and two anxious looking men in identical suits.

Sebastian’s heart thrummed as he took in the full force of Moriarty as he was meant to be; he had changed into a navy blue suit, perfectly fitted, with tie of the same shade decorated with tiny stars and a diamond tie pin, his hair was slicked back properly, and the bruise was now barely noticeable in the harsh daylight.

Jim rolled his eyes and smiled as he caught sight of Sebastian.

“Staff, eh?”

He clicked his fingers and gestured to Seb- a woman immediately stepped forward and handed him back his leather jacket. Seb took it, eyes still on Jim.

“You’ll be needing it more than me.” Jim assured him, before clicking his fingers a second time and smiling sickeningly.

Every person in Jim’s employment drew a gun. Within milliseconds of each other.

It took Sebastian a few seconds to realise they were all pointing at him.

“What the fu-“ He began before Jim interrupted him.

“We’ve come to the end of our journey together, Dr Moran. It’s been sensational and I regret to say goodbye but; bye.” He turned on his heel and made to stroll towards the door leading out towards the helicopter pad.

“Wait, Jim, what?” Seb’s heart was hammering now and he could feel his blood running cold in his veins. This was all just a joke, Jim was messing with him. His cruel idea of a laugh.

Jim paused, not turning to look at him.

“Does someone want to repeat what I just said to Dr Moran?”

A chorus of voices began before Sebastian called over them.

“What the fuck is going on, Jim? This is a joke, right?”

“Nope.” Jim still had his back to him, but had now pulled out his phone and seemed to be texting. He held the air of someone who was rapidly tiring of a conversation.

Anger began to boil inside Seb as he realised exactly what Jim thought he was going to do. He was going to turn around and say all this had been an act, that he’d simply used Sebastian as a tool in his escape and now felt no hesitation in dumping him here. That was bullshit and they both knew it.

“You know I know you, right?” Sebastian growled, “I know what you’re trying to do and I know you can’t do it.”

Jim turned to him slowly, still holding his phone loosely in his left hand. His eyes bore into Seb’s; dead.

“Honey, you have no idea what I can and _will_ do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being a lot longer than I planned but oh well. I'll try not to leave this on a cliffhanger for too long! Thank you for reading x


	11. Day 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, lads. Buckle up.

Sebastian slammed Jim against the glass wall of the room before his people had time to react, not loosening his grip on the collar of the man’s designer shirt when several guns pressed against his head. He knew they wouldn’t shoot without Jim’s order, and he knew Jim wouldn’t give it. Not yet, at least.

He held him there steadily, stare unwavering as he growled,

“Try it.”

Jim’s eyes were alive with excitement now- pupils blown as he licked his lips and held up a hand to his staff.

“It’s alright,” He told them slowly, “You can go.”

“Sir-“ A voice, Gabriel, began to protest before Jim silenced him, shouting suddenly,

“I SAID GO!”

There was a quiet rustling of Jim’s people reluctantly leaving the room, and Sebastian smirked humorlessly as they were left alone and Jim returned his gaze to him.

“There’s no need to be smug.” He muttered, shoving Sebastian away as if suddenly disgusted by him,

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

“You don’t need to change your fucking mind.” Seb took a step back, even in his state of bitter anger, knowing to give Jim his space, “You were never going to leave me here.”

“Oh so you’re telling me what I planned to do from the beginning, is that it? Suddenly you know what’s going on in my head?” Jim spun back around to face him, cold fury apparent in his expression.

“Jesus, you’re all over the place.” Sebastian murmured, regarding his patient with concern.

“Decided to be a psychiatrist again now, have we?” Jim demanded.

Seb frowned; he’d witnessed Jim’s mood swings before, but suddenly being out in the real world had seemed to amplify them. This was Moriarty.

“Yeah, Jim, because you’re unstable. I know you, I know what you need.” He argued, trying to keep his own voice steady.

“And what’s that exactly? You?” Jim laughed cruelly, eyes slightly manic.

“Yes.” Sebastian replied through gritted teeth.

“I used you, Moran. Sorry.” Jim shrugged dismissively before looking back and smirking at Seb, eyes suddenly calm as still water.

“You were a good fuck though, I’ll give you that. That wasn’t part of the initial plan admittedly but I got a little carried away.”

He dropped his eyes over Seb’s body slowly.

Sebastian could feel the anger bubbling through his veins and his limbs felt hot and heavy as he pinned Jim to the glass for a second time, closing the gap between them. He kissed him roughly, murmuring obscenities into his mouth; Jim indulged him for a second before pulling away to sing,

“You’re not gonna change my mind!”

Seb reached up to trail a finger over Jim’s jawline carefully, fingers as steady as ever, even in the midst of rage.

“You need me. You may have convinced yourself that you don’t, because you’re an idiot, but I know you do, and I’m gonna make you say it.”

Jim’s eyes grew cold.

“Adorable. But no one ever gets to me, Dr; you included.”

He slipped away again, calling out over his shoulder,

“Sorry your dad messed you up, Sebastian, but I’m not here to satisfy your reverse God complex.”

Seb’s fists clenched by his side as the anger coiled inside him again, and he had to take a deep breath to refrain from hitting something.

Seeming to sense his fury, Jim glanced around.

“What? A few tiny home truths making you angry?” He drawled, smiling over his shoulder.

Sebastian dropped his gaze, digging his nails into his palms furiously. The edges of his vision were beginning to cloud with red, and his mind’s eye was showing him what it would feel like to crack Jim’s head against the glass wall, to choke him until that manic glint vanished from his eyes. He screwed his own shut, refusing to entertain the idea of hurting his patient; the images were so abhorrent to him he began to feel his heartrate slow and sight return to normal as he considered it.

“Are you going to hit me, Dr? Are you gonna lose it again, like that time in Afghanistan?”

Sebastian looked up at him for a moment, before striding across to the door leading out to the helicopter pad and yanking it open, gesturing for Jim to step outside. He kept his gaze steady, taking deep breaths.

Jim raised his eyebrows but obliged, strolling out into the wind. Seb followed, passing him to determinedly approach the edge and step up onto the small railing. There wasn’t much of a barrier- just a small step surrounding the circumference of the pad to protect it’s users from the seventy-five story drop.

Jim paused, watching him, before peering over himself, expression unreadable.

“Long way down.” He commented.

“You’re gonna tell me you need me, that you want me to come with you back to London. The _truth._ Or I’ll jump.” Sebastian told him, having to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the wind.

He braced himself against the chill, too aware of his pulse in his ears. Everything felt surreal; wrong. Threatening to harm oneself for personal gain was a tactic he had observed in many patients over the years, but never had he imagined using it himself.

Though he didn’t for a second doubt the truth in his own words; he didn’t want his life anymore if Jim wasn’t going to be in it.

Jim seemed to find the entire notion incredibly amusing, and he sniggered as he slipped his hands into his pockets and licked his lips.

“Really? We’re doing this?” He cocked his head to one side, “Cupid really has got you in a chokehold hasn’t he?”

“Come on,” Seb retorted, ignoring his taunting, “You’ve forced one guy of the edge of a building already, right? Why not another one?”

“Slightly different context, dear. He wasn’t going willingly.” Jim took a small step closer.

Sebastian didn’t miss this miniscule notion of concern and proceeded to push him.

“Neither am I. You think I want to fucking die? You’re making me do this.” He leant slightly further over, looking down at Jim’s cars still parked on the pavement outside the building.

“Oh come on, Sebastian, you’re a grown man.” Jim argued, a hint of frustration in his tone, “Does throwing yourself off the top of a skyscraper really seem like the only viable option for not getting what you want?”

Seb shrugged.

“Isn’t that your thing? Extremes?”

Jim laughed again, gesturing with his hand.

“Okay, you got me.” He smiled slowly, black eyes glinting, “Go on then.”

Sebastian couldn’t tell if he was bluffing- the cold smirk was etched onto his face like stone and his hands had slipped back into his pockets where he stood a few meters away. He looked entirely relaxed, other than the hint of mania that so often clouded his dark eyes; unnervingly so.

“Fine.” Seb took a breath and committed himself to what he was about to do. This was it. He’d let himself fall for Jim and now he was facing the consequences; _falling_ for Jim.

He laughed at the cruel irony of it, and the sound was snatched from his mouth and carried away into the wind.

“Something funny?” Jim called, voice slightly strained.

Sebastian turned to look at him, taking in as much of the sight as he could; remembering the feel of Jim’s skin under his fingertips, his chapped lips meeting Seb’s, his cool breath on his tongue.

The look of something _so much more_ in his eyes.

_I’m always burning._

_If you’re burning, I’ll burn with you._

“I love you.” He told him.

There was no motive in the words, he wasn’t trying to manipulate Jim, or to make him feel guilty. It was simply the truth, and now it was out in the open.

Seb let his eyes slip closed as he leant back, feeling his weight rock back onto his heels as the wind whipped his jacket around him and he began to tip over the edge. There was a second of gut-wrenching stillness where he was neither here nor there, neither standing nor falling. It was almost peaceful.

Then, a hand grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back onto solid ground with surprising force.

Sebastian blinked as he stumbled back onto the pad, regaining his balance.

“WHAT THE _FUCK_ WAS THAT?” Jim was stood in front of him, eyes wide with tangible fury as he threw his arms into the air,

“Are you fucking _insane?_ What, you were actually going to _jump off the roof?_ You know even Sherlock Holmes didn’t do that for _real_ , right? You’re a blithering _idiot,_ Moran.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefingers, taking a deep breath.

Seb gazed at him, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth as he smoothed down his jacket.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me go through with it.” He stated, adrenaline tingling through every nerve in his body.

“Of course I wasn’t going to let you go through with it, Sebastian, did you think I was going to let you _die?_ ”

Their eyes met and Seb noticed the air of sadness in Jim’s once again, so silent it was almost unrecognisable as that. It all but broke his heart to see it.

“No, Jim.” He answered quietly, taking a step towards him.

Jim watched him warily for a few moments, before dropping his gaze as he let Sebastian place a gentle hand on the small of his back and lean in to kiss the side of his head lightly.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Seb murmured, “What I said before; I don’t want that, for you to admit anything. But I can look out for you, Jim. I’ll work for you, whatever, just let me be there if you need me. It’s what I’m for now.”

Jim was silent for a moment, eyes glazed over.

“You don’t know me.” He stated. His voice was light, as if he were only half present on the conversation, half somewhere else.

“I know I love you.” Sebastian replied.

“You met me not two months ago.” Jim argued, voice solidifying once more.

“That’s how I know.”

Jim gestured vaguely with his hand, the wind pressing the fabric of his sleeve against his wrist.

“This isn’t going to be what you want, Moran.” He sighed, frowning slightly, “I’m not made for this- ordinary…” He made a face as he trailed off.

“I’ll break your heart.” He promised suddenly, black eyes meeting Seb’s with such force he nearly lost his balance a second time. There was a moment of silence, and Jim’s eyes widened a fraction as he tilted his head to one side and watched his doctor watching him.

Sebastian kissed him.

It was almost gentle, the stubble smattered across Jim’s skin scratching Seb slightly as their hair was whipped up around them and it began to rain once more.

It was cold, biting. New.

The kiss lasted for what could have been any amount of time, Seb finally pulling away as water began dripping down the back of his neck, gazing at Jim fiercely,

“That, James Moriarty, is what I’m counting on.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end, and this is actually the first mulitchap fic I've ever completed so :))) Just want to say thank you to everyone who's read/left kudos/commented on this story it means a lot to me and I hope you all enjoyed the ending! Also special little shoutout to SirArthurHeadcanonDoyle whose consistently lovely feedback and encouragement, tbh, got this fic finished x


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